Struggle
by UniqueImposter
Summary: 'My whole life has been...a struggle, from my childhood and now, with Hayner in this coma, and I had so many reasons for us not to be together. Despite all of that, falling in love with you was easy. It's messy, but this is our story.' Roxas POV. Main paring: Axel/Roxas Side pairings: Riku/Sora - Seifer/Hayner Warning: Swearing. Smut. Some violence.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey buddy," I say, as I usually do when I enter this room. It's a routine now, a play I put on for only myself. I'm sure Hayner would appreciate all the effort I put in to making myself feel better, but he's been in a coma for the last year and cant quite open his eyes enough to see me jump through all the hoops.

I drew him a get-well card in my spare time, as if I don't think about him being here enough. I put it with about sixteen others all lined up on his bedside table. This one is unelaborate and very lame compared to the amount of time I put into some of the others. I drew an alarm clock buzzing on the cover and inside its simply says wake up.

I brush back the hair from his forehead, before sitting down. "You used to gel your hair every damn day." He also used to sit up by himself, he used to smile, and get angry too quickly and be a normal kid.

It's useless. I pull my hands away when it's only his breathing machine that answers me with the cold _shhh ahhh_ of forced breath. That noise is the stuff of nightmares, or well, my nightmares anyway. Hayner just lays there, paler then he used to be, thinner too. I swallow. Sometimes, if I'm honest with myself I forget what he was like before. I forget exactly how he used to punch me in the arm, or that look on his face when he got some hair brained idea in his head.

Those things are all true, they're there, in my memories but even those thoughts remind me of this.

He's a potato, and he'd kick my ass if he knew I was the coward who kept him alive.

I'm the only one who still visits him. I'm sure Pence and Olette would if you know, they weren't dead.

I wonder sometimes what they would say to me. What we would talk about all around him. I wonder if he's waiting for them to come so that he can wake up. It's why I decorated this place with mementoes of them. Pence's polaroid's and Olette's knitting as if somehow they're proper substitutes for the real thing.

I'm so numb to these kinds of thoughts I can't even get upset about them anymore. I used to cry. Shove my head into his side and beg him to wake up, move, or to do anything.

I did a lot of crying in those days. Poor Sora, eventually he learned to just leave me to it, and I got all cried out. The guilt's still there, buried to the hilt in my gullet, a wound I've just grown around.

I muse for a moment, speaking out loud just for kicks. "Olette would fuss, she'd pull your blankets tight around you and make sure your tubes were all correctly laid and she'd get so sad that you no longer call her Omelet jokingly. That you cant.

Pence would do what Pence does. He'd crack jokes, none of them very thought out, then he'd make one about you being in this coma, Hayner, and none of us would laugh. Pence would hold his camera like a life line, looking at a scene he'd rather forget all together then capture forever."

I shake my head, its haunting being without them. I can remember them with such clarity, but not Hayner, maybe its because those memories are all I have left of them. They're dear. I wish, for the millionth time that Hayner would wake up. Even if I would have to explain it all, and know that he'd hate me more with every word.

"Hey," I say, putting my bag down and rustling through it. "I brought you the new issue of Struggle." Struggle, its this fighting tournament we were going to enter together, Hayner and me, and Hayner, well, that was his biggest dream. Not to fight in the little backyard fight that's a shadow of the real thing but to go pro. Now it's me trying to make that true.

I pull out the magazine. There's this new hot shot, cocky fighter who smiles like he's the epitome of struggle and they put him on the front cover. "See this guy," I put my finger right over his perfect face. "He's got spikey red hair and super green eyes and he's a damn giant. His names Axel, he's a decent fighter but he is one son of a bitch. We'll never be in the same division though." I say flipping through the magazine.

I read out an article here or an interview there. "They did a whole spread on the guy. Calls himself the _Flurry of Dancing Flames._ Can you believe that? I wish I could fight him if only to knock that smug ass grin off his face."

'Why do I dislike him so much?' Hayner would ask. 'Think he's cute or somethin'."

To be fair, he's got some great assets, but who could love that mouth? To which Hayner would roll his eyes and say something dirty, probably about blowjobs or 69ing. I laugh to myself. The way Hayner executed his jokes was hilarious. Not because they were particularly funny, but because he always had to act them out. No matter how vulgar or socially unacceptable, and he always committed.

Also, he never really cared that I'm gay. He'd make cracks about it, sure, when I came into practice limping or had to do some extra stretching but he never cared who my partners were, just if they were hot.

He was, I mean is, my favorite asshole.

"I miss you," the words echo around me because there's no way Hayner can answer me, but its true, a weight bearing down on my heart. The always feeling of being with him but without him all at once. I can only cling to the idea that he'll wake up, and get at least some semblance of his life back and die when he's old.

Only there's never any guarantee. The doctors just don't know. He could wake up any day now, or be in the coma forever, or just flat line for no reason.

I take his hand. I will let him go, I think I'll be able to do it once what I promised him comes true. If only it didn't scare me so much, what if I'm a day to soon? What if I switched him off and he would've woken up the next day?

I'd give anything to switch him places, anything for it to be me lying there, but everything I have apparently the Gods don't want.

The magazine lays open on his bedside, like he took a moment to jerk it to one of the hot half-naked ladies holding the balls. Like he would have once. "I'll leave this for your perusal." I say, setting it on the pile I've left for him. There's twelve now, he'd be so pissed he was so behind.

"Well," I stand picking up my backpack. "I'll see you tomorrow."

When I walk through the door there's a crash bang with smaller bangs as if a cart is being knocked over. I don't see anything but I hold in the doorway paralyzed by the loudness in an otherwise quiet part of the hospital. They wouldn't come for him would they?

Then, I see him running, a line of blood coming through his medical gown. I have to blink away my surprise. Its Axel, the asshole from the Struggle cover.

He spots me and I have half a mind to duck back into Hayner's room, but he'll just pass me by right? Wrong. He skids to a halt right in front of me, panting, holding his wounded side. What. The. Fuck.

Axel holds up a finger, bending to catch his breath, even hunched over he's still just a little taller then me. _Jerk_. I narrow my eyes at his finger.

"Is there a way out of here?" He asks, his breath a little labored.

"You could try the elevator, and take it down to the first floor."

"No. I cant. See, I cracked a rib. Axel, by the way." He holds out his other hand, I don't take it. "Pleasure." It's a sarcastic comment but he has this dumb-ass grin on his face. "See. Okay. They'd never let me leave and I _can't_ be here anymore."

"There's a balcony through those double doors. You could jump."

To my surprise, he laughs. I really wasn't trying to be funny.

"Its certainly would be the fastest way, but I'm not so good with heights either."

I look him up and down, he's not even wearing shoes, makes me think he jumped out of the hospital bed first chance he could and ran this way of all ways. "If you've got cracked ribs why do you want to leave anyway? And look, you're bleeding everywhere."

"I've got a physician at home." He says, dodging the question. "They took me here when I was passed out."

"You got knocked out," I say, smiling a little.

"No. Passed out. Not knocked out." His expression lights up like a city at night, and then I realize. I gave it away. I told him that I know who he is. I can just die now, thanks. Way to feed his ego Roxas.

I clench my fists at my sides, anger pooling in me and I might go off like a mad dog so I say. "There's stairs here. If you take a left at the bottom you'll miss the front desk, take another left and there's a side entrance."

"Know your way around, huh?"

"I'm here a lot." Axel looks into the room behind me. I wonder what he sees there. Just some kid, just some vegetable, not Hayner. Whatever he sees he keeps his face neutral about it.

"Well, I am sure glad I ran into you Mr. I'm-here-a-lot." He drags this part out. Tough luck, dude, my names my own.

There are more footsteps coming up the hall. "Aw, well, gotta run." And he winks at me.

Gross.

He takes off down the stairwell, and four more people I don't recognize run past me, but I'm sure are his managers and bodyguards. "Wait!" I call to them. They stop just long enough to give me the stink eye. "He went down the stairs."

"Thank you." One of them says before they all follow Axel into the stairwell.

I smile to myself before walking to the elevator and pushing the down arrow so it lights up green. Good thing I wont ever have to see him again.

~.~

I love writing sarcastically. So. Get ready for a lot of that. ^^


	2. Chapter 2

Should I eat Captain Crunch or fruity pebbles for breakfast? I hold up the boxes in front of me, delegating between the two cartoon mascots. I have practice today and a fight later on in the week. I should be making a protein smoothie and sucking it down like the champ I believe I could be, but lately I'm all about self-deprecation, so Captain Crunch it is.

Speaking of self-deprecation, I can't get that Axel guy out of my head. Our encounter yesterday was so weird. Who runs out of a hospital with a bleeding wound? That's some crazy shit.

I could probably call the tabloids and make some serious dough. The hospital could spit the profit with me if they were to 'leak' the camera footage.

My cereal clinks in the bowl, before I begin pouring my milk.

"Is that cereal I smell? I hope you saved me some." Sora walks in with a limp I recognize, he's wearing hastily put on PJs that makes me think he wasn't wearing them moments before. He gets down his own bowl and pours himself a matching breakfast.

Sora's my brother, my twin, he moved down to live with me in Twilight Town last year. Immediately, he began doing what he loved. He's making it big, a Blitz-Ball player on the cusp of stardom. I've seen him play, watched him practice—he's got real talent and an honest passion that makes everybody love him. It's why the media can't get enough of their rising star.

I'm glad that he came out here to be with me. Our apartment is small, but it's the nicest place I've ever lived, I'm sure that compared to where Sora grew up this could be considered a shit-hole. It's got two bedrooms, roommate style, so they're mostly the same size. We're lucky enough to have our own bathrooms, and a landlord that doesn't mind if we paint. The kitchen is tiny, but it has a small bar and the living room doubles as a dining room—the couch is in the middle of the room with a small square table behind it. We have a decent sized T.V. and a compiled music and DVD collection.

Our space is a mash of our two personalities, Sora's items have color everywhere with flowing shapes and hardly anything matches. Mine are sets, black and white or muted colors with set patterns or shapes—I'm particularly fond of checkered.

It's a little rough on the eyes, but its home.

"You know Riku doesn't have to sneak out," I say taking a bite. "I know about you two, going steady, and all that."

He makes a face at me, tongue out, nose scrunched, it's real classy for a twenty year old, and I laugh. Sora's expression turns almost confused and then happy. Oh, right. I don't laugh anymore. I just feel really good today.

Sora takes his breakfast to the table, eating his cereal with gusto. I shovel more of the sugar cubes into my mouth before pouring myself a second bowl, and then I move to join him.

"For your information, Riku's gone. He had to catch an early Gummy ship for work." Sora flicks on the T.V. Axels face pops up and some preppy reporter bitch is talking about him like he invented Struggle. Why do they have to use that picture? He looks so cocky there, so not like a real person. I think back to the tall man in the hospital gown, still cocky, but not intolerable. He was full of charm, and wit.

I shake my head. I hated him yesterday. I told him to affectively kill himself by jumping off of a building.

"So, is Riku up for promotion?" He works at this firm. Its real boring stuff, consulting, I think.

"Yeah," Sora says excitedly, his mouth full. "Even though he's the bosses son everyone totally wants him to take the job, it just means he has to work a lot more. When I work I run drills, or smile at people in stadiums. He has to fill out paper work and have meetings and blah blah blah. I'm so proud of him, don't get me wrong, I just wish…" Sora tapers off as his face creeps into a slow blush. "Sorry."

"Its cool." I say. "I don't mind. When I work I hit stuff."

He laughs and I echo him. I know he's trying to read me like he used to be able to, but that telepathy twin thing hasn't worked in a while. Not for a very long time in fact.

"You're chatty today."

I shrug rolling my shoulders; I'm tense for no reason. It's not a particularly invasive statement, but that's how it feels. "Sorry."

"No, Rox." There's this annoyed ugh sound that he makes. "Its good, just strange. Good strange. Did anything happen?" His face streams with positive outlook, up turned half-smile, eyes shining, the whole bit. If it were anyone else, I'd wonder what drugs they were taking, but not Sora. It's just how he is.

"I met Axel." I motion lazily to the T.V. "He was at the hospital yesterday."

Sora stands up suddenly. "He's **famous."**

"You're famous."

"I'm almost famous, there's a difference." I roll my eyes. "What's he like? How tall is he really?" Sora is a buzz, hoping from out foot to the other as he interrogates me. He reminds me of the reporter bitch, hovering and asking all sorts of mundane questions. Is that your natural color? Do you like bubble baths? With which hand do you hold your penis when you pee? I don't understand it.

"He's just a guy." I say. "A weird one, but just a dude really. And I'd say about 6'3."

"How'd you meet?"

So I tell him the story, even the part where I told him he could jump off of a building. My brother is gaping at me with a happy schoolgirl crush kind of expression. Here I was thinking that Axel was kind of okay in person, but if he turns people into idiots I'm not so sure.

"That's crazy."

"Great input there Sora, thanks." My bowls empty, I push it to the middle of the table. Sora punches me in the arm playfully, it's a pathetic hit, but I still glare at him.

He doesn't even bat an eyelash. "You think you're ever going to see him again?"

I laugh, a bark, a hah! "Yeah _right._ On TV special and in spreads on Struggle magazine, but never in person."

"You could be in those magazines one day, and then you'll meet again face to face and fall in _looooooovveeee."_ All right, someone's been watching to many of those romantic comedies.

"Yeah." I put on my best dopey voice. "He was making a break for it while I was visiting my comatose friend, and it was just the way he bled everywhere that made me think. 'This is the one.' Get real." I fidget with the bracelet cuff I never take off.

"It could happen."

"Don't be stupid. It'll happen when Riku gets you pregnant."

Sora busts out laughing, knee slapping, the whole bit, and I'm smiling and then joining in this crazy loud fit of laugher. It's been a long time since I laughed in earnest.

Though the cuff around my wrist feels too tight, as if laughter makes it shrink and there's this image of headstones in my head and Hayner on that stupid machine that makes that stupid whoosh noise. I clutch my wrist, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. I don't get to be happy. I don't deserve laughter.

It's gone quiet. I snap out of it. There was a time when that would've sent me into a full episode but I've learned how to keep them at bay until I'm in private. I pick at the threads in my bracelet, I'll have to get a new one soon, this ones practically falling apart.

I am calm and collected and fine. Sora's looking at me funny and I have half a mind to act like nothings wrong, but its exhausting putting on a show for someone I already know sees me breaking down. However, I have to go before he try's to help, to say something, or make me feel better. I sound like such a snot when I say that him attempting to comfort me is the worst. There's nothing he can do, but Gods if he doesn't try anyway.

I'm an asshole, and I add it to the list of things I have to feel bad about, but for now I have to go.

"I'm late for practice." I say as I'm already moving, quickly placing my bowl in the sink and hurrying into my room before he can say another word.

~.~

Just filling out the story more before Axel takes up a huge role in it. Promise lots to come. ^^ If anyone cares this is some of the music I listened to while writing this chapter.

Ride This Out ~ Imaginary Cities

I believe (Get Over Yourself) ~ Nico Vega

Two Fingers ~Jake Bugg

Car Radio ~Twenty One Pilots.

Also, Sorry if there are typos.


	3. Chapter 3

Apparently, I'm going to be an uncle.

I arrived to practice late and what do I miss? The TTZ (Twilight Town Zine) is doing a special on Axel—where he trains the local rookies. I don't need this today. I had to meet him yesterday, I'm pretty sure once was enough, and now I have to take tips from him. He'll strut around like a big red peacock establishing himself as top peacock.

He hasn't seen me yet, I wonder if he'll even recognize me, our encounter was weird enough that there's a good chance he will. I take extra care getting changed into my Struggle shorts and taping my hands.

There's a knock on the dressing room door; it's Cid. "Roxas, you're fighting next."

"Okay, I'll be out in a second." _Awesome._ There's a window I can sneak out of, but then I'd have to explain to Cid why I wasn't completely psyched to be trained by a real life Struggle professional. Hate him or not, I probably still could learn from him, as much as I don't want to admit it. Hayner would kill to meet someone who stood in the big arena and won. He'd get this stupid grin on his face and say _mannnn_ a lot.

I pull my two bats from out of my gym bag, they're identical Struggle weapons—the blade is flat while the handle is curved to ensure grip, though I patterned mine with chains running down either side. I affectionately call them Oblivion. Most Struggle player's only use one bat, using two isn't against the rules. Hell, I can use four if I wanted to tape the remaining two to my feet for all the rules have to say about it.

However, duel wielding takes a bunch more coordination and timing. Besides, the bats are heavy, hold two bats and there's more possibility for damage but also leaves me open for attack. Both blades have to constantly be in motion to get enough speed to hit and block at the same time. I have to be as fast with two as I am with one. That's why most players only use one, cant keep up the stamina and the second blade becomes a liability rather then an asset.

Two blades make me feel like an assassin, a nod to my old life.

I take the blades, slip off my shoes, and head barefooted to the main floor. Oh, goody. I'm fighting Seifer; he's the only one who can beat me.

I smirk at Axel when he sees me. Oh yeah, he recognizes me; his confused and surprised expression quickly melts back into that uniform smug grin. He's not wearing training clothes, just regular stuff with enough logos that the camera crew behind him must be envious of how much he's going to make in advertising sales alone. He must still be pretty injured to not get in the ring with us, but he does a damn good job of hiding it. No limps. No struggle breathing. Maybe he gets injured tons and part of his fame is to act like he doesn't get hurt at all.

I doubt the TTZ reporters have a clue.

Axel crosses his arms as I enter the ring—only, the ring isn't circular like its name would suggest. It's a perfect square. There are no guards to bounce around on, just four white lines to mark the bounds of the fight. Seifer's on the other side, glaring at me, we've never gotten along but now he despises my existence while once he treated me with subtle annoyance. All in all. He's a prick.

I can feel Axel's eyes boring into me, burning, and prickling the back of my skull. He's going to judge everything I do here and make comments about it.

The rest of the gym huddles around as Cid takes his place as coach between us. We quickly switch into our ready positions and the feel in the room flows with the air of a good fight.

There's a couple of ways you can win a Struggle match. One—get your opponent out of bounds, it's a strike system. One, two, three, you're out. That kind of thing. Second, knock them out, and as much as I'd love to see Seifer on his ass, I'm small, and I cant get enough force to knock someone that much bigger then me out. Maybe if I could hit him square in the jaw but I cant. I'm not allowed to hit him in the head; the mat would technically do the knocking of the skull. Only the truly unprofessional lose this way. Third—play by the rules. Ridiculous. _I know_.

The rules are pretty simple. The name of the game is hit, or get hit, but they've banned a couple of things. Eye gouging, ear biting, foul play—which pretty much means I can't kick him in the nuts. A full swing that contacts with the flat of the blade is three points, a full swing that contacts only with the side of the blade is two, and a tap is one.

These small balls added to each player's basket, keep the score. The one with the most balls wins. Hayner always liked saying that.

"Struggle." Cid says, which is our starting cue.

Immediately, I lash out with both my bats taping Seifer—one, two. Two balls are added to my basket and then while Seifer moves to swing I dodge away. Seifer will beat me in a fight, he'll beat me so bad I'll be black and blue for weeks, but keep away? In that game he doesn't have a prayer.

The game only lasts about five minutes and there is only one round, or there's no way he'd even let me try this again.

I track his movements and every time his sword falls, I make sure I have the momentum to block or I move away, going to far as to roll, spin, and leap away from him. He's swinging a little wildly now, trying to catch me off guard, but it just makes him slower and clumsier. Towards the end of the round he's cussing up a storm. The gym has disbanded from the match, returning to their scheduled workouts.

Seifer's pissed, and I'm pretty proud I could keep this up.

The ball dings and I've won. Oh man, he's mad. He's red, livid, like a big tomato. He throws his bat in his anger, and I watch as it smashes into the wall behind us bouncing harmlessly to the floor. I wish he'd broken it. Then pain explodes in my left eye.

I'm on my ass and Cid's between us. The fucker punched me. I don't think I'm bleeding but I can barley see anything at all. Seifer's quiet now as Cid berates him, our coach won't throw him out of the gym. He's our best fighter and we all know it. Though, I swear to all that is holy, did he have to hit me? Asshole couldn't think to ask for a rematch?

I hiss when I touch my eye. It's already swollen. Sora's going to have my ass for dinner.

There's a warm hand on my shoulder and before I can react it wraps around me and pulls me up. The world is a constellation of bright spots. I grit my teeth and push the help away, opting to stand on my own. To my surprise the broad chest keeping me a float while my head spins does not yield or shove backwards at my push. I look up. Only two people here are that tall. Rai and…Axel. Of course it's Axel.

He does not abide my protests and half helps, half drags me to the changing room and sits me down on a bench. His hands are surprisingly gentle and not too rough. He blazes with this heat that shoots right to my groin.

"I don't need your help." I make to get up and head for the break room where I know there's a refrigerator and freezer combo full with ice but Axel pushes me back down to the bench.

"Well shut up and take it because I'm giving it to you." He points to the other door. "Ice?"

I wave him off in a yes sort of motion, he returns with a plastic baggy full of ice, wrapped in a spare dishcloth. Axel kneels in front of me, finally shorter then I am, and puts the bag on my eye. For the first time, I realize how awful I must look, not that I really care.

I try my best not to wince, but I can't help it, getting punched in the eye hurts like a motherfucker. I take the icepack he's fashioned, indicating I can go this part alone. He doesn't move away, just sits back on his feet, watching me.

"You ratted me out."

"Excuse me?"

"Yesterday, at the hospital, you told them which way I went. I had to be checked out by a doctor."

"Boo-hoo, you got medical attention." People don't just sprint out of hospitals for no good reason. I know that. I know. Okay? But I don't particularly care what he's so afraid of or why he's so afraid of it. In fact I wish he would get spooked and run the hell out of here. I don't like looking at him, he's too good looking, none of that photo shop bullshit. His face is the real deal.

Axel only shakes his head at me. "You've got great form."

"Thanks," I mumble.

"I've never seen anyone Struggle with two bats before. You carry them like they're lighter then one, and you're so damn nimble. I could never pull that off." He rubs the back of his neck in an unconscious gesture, one that is obnoxiously cute. I don't think he's used to giving other people compliments. "Cid was bragging about that other guy, but you won the fight."

"Seifer is our better player. He's our best."

"He punches you in the eye, and you pay him a compliment." His green eyes are incredulous. " He may hit harder sure, but you're way smarter. You could go pro. In fact, you should. Those buffoons aren't used to anyone moving quickly with the bats, they weigh half a ton."

My chest seizes as he compliments me. He **is** a pro fighter and he's saying that I could make it. I could fulfill Hayner's dream.

The thought scares me more then I can let Axel know. Its been my goal for a little under a year now but I never imagined what I'd do if it actually happened. Name in lights. Crowds cheering. I'd have to come up with a name for myself—one as stupid as the Flurry of Dancing Flames.

I swallow, trying to keep my rising dread down.

I should have let Seifer kick my ass.

"Hey, Roxas, you should give me your number." Axel says, and I'm back on the defense.

"Why?"

"Not for anything dirty. Or well, only if you're up for it." His eyes scan my shirtless body, and that grin is back, but it's different, oozing with sensuality. He seems serious, and it makes me fidget under his gaze. _Do not blush._ I command of myself. "I'll set you up with a real match, or at least warn you if I send some scouts your way."

I'm dumbstruck. "Why?"

"You're a good player."

I laugh, and I know it must throw Axel off because he furrows his brow. "That's too nice. What's the catch?"

Axel shrugs, touching his neck again. "Go out with me sometime."

~.~

Third chapter down in less then a month! Lets see if I can keep this weekly regimen up. …I don't know. I hope so. I have so much planned. I can't wait.

…When we set sail…. It'll be great.

Okay. I'm hyped the fuck up is all. Lots of coffee. Goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

Axels gone, but I have his phone number and he has mine, and now we have a date for tomorrow night. 'Why wait?' He said. I'm going to fuck Axel; Sora will have a literal cow in our living room. Axel will probably do me and drop me, but that's just as well.

I still kind of can't believe I said yes. What is wrong with me? I don't need to be going on dates with guys like Axel, no, I'm not sure what kind of guys I should be going on dates with, but not guys like Axel, that's for sure. Sex for a promotion, man that's sleazy. I wonder if we'll even go on an actual date, or if he'll lead me back to a hotel, light a candle, dim the lights, and call that romantic.

I'm not sure what to expect and it scares me.

I press the ice more firmly to my eye and breathe through the pain of it. It's going to be fine, I'll have a nice bruise but that's all right. I'll just have to deal with it for now. I don't think he broke the skin, which is a blessing all by itself.

The door creeks open, and Seifer's standing there like a kicked dog. He glowers at me, his face heavy with strain.

"Good," I say. "I was hoping you could punch me in my other eye. It just feels uneven, you know?" I stand up. I'm going home. I'll kick him in the balls if he tries to block me, we're not in the ring, and I don't think anyone would blame me if I took the initiative to rough him up a little. I know fighters get beat up, that's cool. I can take a punch to the face, but I shouldn't have to. We fight with bats not fists, and the head is absolutely off limits.

For a minute he doesn't say anything but then he comes into the locker room and sits next to me, his stance suggesting he still thinks he's above me in every way possible. Well, _I_ wasn't the one who lost that last match.

We stare at each other, my mean mug meeting his full on. I'm not really sure what he wants. I've got more sarcastic comments, but I don't think he's the right audience to try them on.

"I was sent to apologize."

"You're forgiven. Now go away."

He doesn't move. Seifer clenches his fists in and out in time with his breathing. We are alone in the locker room; he really could punch me in the other eye if he wanted.

Though, he doesn't try to swing at me. He doesn't do anything.

After awhile, I slap my hand down on his shoulder, and somehow his glare intensifies. Ooh. _Scary_. "Good chat. I'll see you when I see you." When I move passed him to my bag he speaks.

"Hayner," he says like saying his name is more painful then my black eye, I stop in my tracks and look at him hard. I study his face; he looks about as pathetic as a kid who can't articulate what he wants. Or exactly like a little kid who got his favorite toy snatched away from him. I'm confused and kind of pissed. Who is he to say that name? "How…is he?"

I deflate. "The same." I say. "Why do you care?" My tone is snotty, but I'm not in the mood to act like a reasonable adult.

Seifer sighs and shakes his head, he's gritting his teeth, grinding the words he wants to say to dust. "He's been under for almost a year."

I look away from him, the guilt hitting me hard. His words. The truth of it, that Seifer would care and Hayner's parent's won't call. It's too much. Its almost ridiculous, and I feel for a second like I'm dreaming. That would explain the number in my pocket.

"Did you come in here to make me feel like shit or what? I know he's been in the coma for a year. Who do you think goes to see him every day, or who foots the bill?"

"You do?" Surprised? Of course its me, Hayner's parents wanted to turn him off eons ago and I asked, begged for them to not. They caved, gave me the medical right to do whatever and be the only one who paid. I think they've already had his funeral, and the boy in the bed is not real, not still breathing, but I don't say any of this out loud. It's none of Seifer's business. "But…you're the one who put him there."

I'm a stone, standing shocked in a moment I never in a million years could have foresaw. Seifer's staring at me, his eyes are hard, and I stare right back at him.

"How do you know that?" I'm a whisper, a shadow, a crack in the wall. Or…I wish I were at least one of those things. Instead, I'm just some boy stammering at the guy who's punched me in the eye and then accused me of putting my best friend in a coma. Only he's right. He's not mud slinging, he's got the facts. I hate him. My heart closes the hate right around my fear, snuffing it out completely. I'm full of self-loathing and rage. Its an 'get my ass kicked cocktail' but I don't care.

Seifer rolls his shoulders and finally looking away from me he says. "I just do."

"Great." I reply. "Does anyone else 'just know'?

"No."

I don't exhale with relief like I should. I can't relax. I can feel my muscles, unbidden by me, contort in this mask of in turned eyebrows and a frown. "I'm sorry." The words are true, but not owed to Seifer. "I wish it were me."

"I wish it were you too." Now this doesn't make sense, the rest I can kind of see. I feel oddly exposed someone knowing my secret, and I hate that he knows it, but he does. I just can't see why he would care. Or why he wishes it was me instead.

Seifer has his own gang, its small, but he could have heard the original origins of my three best friends' 'accident'. Even Sora doesn't know the whole truth of it, and I didn't ever plan on telling him.

"Why? You and Hayner were…" I can't find the right word. Enemies? That's not right. "You hated each other."

There's something in his action that I can't quite pinpoint. I cant quite understand why Seifer would set is shoulders and draw his mouth in a straight line. He says nothing to this. Not a peep.

I press the ice back to my swollen eye.

"I really am sorry for your eye, it was dirty. You did win, fair and square."

I nod. "Thanks." I'm heavy with all this unresolved energy, but all I say is. "Will you tell anyone?"

"No."

I'm still not relived, there's still this tightness in my chest. This suffocating feeling, I'm drowning in it. All's good. Seifer's a thug, and a small crime ringleader but his word is better then any honest man. My secret is safe. Why am I disappointed?

"Okay." I say, bobbing my head like a damn doll. I grab my stuff from my locker; stuff my feet into my shoes. I don't bother to change, just pull a shirt over my head. Seifer's not gone when I turn back around. I expected him to leave, too cool to say goodbye he'd just slip out and we'd regard each other very little at practice.

I brush past him but I turn at the door, compelled by our encounter. I fiddle with my gym bag and rest my hand on the strap. Oh hell, what could it hurt?

"His room number is 813, and visiting hours are pretty much any time."

"What?" He blinks at me.

I bite the inside of my cheek, looking anywhere but at his face, I don't know what's going to be there and I don't want to see it. "Hayner. You should go to see him if you care so much. I mean, all he does is lay there, but its still kind of nice just to be with him."

"…Okay."

Then I turn to leave. Cid put my bats next to the door, and the camera crew has cleared out, thank God, and no ones on the trolley on my ride home.

I climb the stairs to the apartment. I'm exhausted. I need a long shower and a good nap.

Sora is on my ass before I can even get out 'Honey, I'm home.' I forgot he doesn't have practice today. "What happened?"

I throw my hands up. "Nothing."

He's mother-henning me. God. He reaches for my chin and turns my face so he can better see my bruise.

"Oh, Rox. Who punched you?"

"Seifer," I mumble, unable to come up with a good enough lie.

"Wanna tag team him? If he both go after him, his ass will be ours."

"Don't let Riku hear you say that."

"Rox. I'm serious. Do you want to kick his ass? Call the cops? We could get him fined for assault at least."

"No." I'm laughing. "No. He punched me because I won our match today."

Sora punches me in the arm, not seeing how absurd that is. "That's awesome," and he really means it. I feel his pride and it makes me uncomfortable. Happy, of course, but cold too—off.

"Yeah it was." I smirk at him. "Made him really lose his cool though."

"I see that." Sora turns the TV off and heads into the kitchen, I pull off my shoes and set my stuff on our table. He returns with water and pain pills. "Get some rest, yeah? And make sure to let me know if you need anything."

I nod. "And hey. Congratulations."

"For what…?"

"Riku got you pregnant. You're going to be a father!"

Sora's face scrunches up in confusion for a moment before his eyes go wide and he pulls me to the couch. "Tell me everything!"

~.~

Sorry it's been a minute. My cat chewed up my damn charger and I ordered one online and it took forever to get here. Anyway. This week's musical selection is.

The bard songs ~ Dragon Age Inquisition

My Number ~ Foals

Real Estate ~Wild Child

Left Behind ~ Wild Child

Awkward ~ San Cisc


	5. Chapter 5

I didn't go see Hayner yesterday.

The thought smacks to the front of my brain as soon as I wake up. He was alone all day in that hospital bed, besides the staff and nurses of course, but I am his _best friend_. We had an unspoken agreement to always make the time for each other.

The circumstances are a bit more complicated now, but still, I can't believe I just…didn't go see him. He was the first thing I thought of when Axel proposed that I should go pro, and usually, he's all that's in my head and I'm dying to go see him even if it literally kills me. Then again, me making it big before him, when he might never…what was I thinking when I decided to do it this way?

It feels like a lifetime ago when I could run to the usual place to see him, and know that even if he weren't there, Pence or Olette would be.

Ugh. I touch my face. It's more swollen today then it was yesterday, and I have a date tonight. Maybe that's why Axel asked me out, because he's into one-eyed glob monsters. I'll constantly keep ice on it and pray that the swelling goes down enough for me to cover the mess of bruises with makeup.

Getting out of bed is a chore; I console myself with the idea that once I make it pro I can pay someone to get out of bed for me. Finally, I roll over and sit up. Whoa. _Head rush._

Sora's head pops through the doorway into my room. He looks fresh. Dressed. Showered. Though that's Sora, up with the sun—unless Riku's keeping him awake until sunrise. Otherwise, always perky, especially at six in the morning, not that I get out of bed before noon. Even then, sleeping is not my strong suit. I'm more the tossing and turning, fretting about every little thing I've ever done wrong type—really sooths the soul.

"Yes?" I groan out.

"You have a phone call," my brother's voice is neutral but he mouths out Axel and makes this goofy face. Oh. Right. We hadn't actually made plans. I thought he'd just show up like he has been lately, wouldn't surprise me at all.

I hold out my hand, not wanting to move from my mattress, Sora's a doll and walks the phone over to me. "Will you get me some pain killers? My head is killing me." He passes me the cordless receiver and backs out, making kissy faces at me. Then he proceeds to use his hands as puppets and mashes them crudely together.

I put the phone to my ear. I can hear Axel breathing, not like loud, creepy horror movie breathing. Just in and out. It's kind of nice. "You wanna hear what my brothers doing right now?"

"Sure," Axel says flippantly.

"No. Nononononono." Sora holds out both of his hands and I cant help but laugh at his petrified expression. "I'll leave. Aspirin right? Anything else I can get you?"

"Ice," I moan falling back into my pillows. "Hello," I say into the phone.

"Hello," he replies. I can hear the grin in his voice, and I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling. "You don't own a cell phone?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

I shrug. "Hospital bills," and he's silent for a full minute, I swear. I wonder for a second if I've scared him off and he'll hang up and go back to fucking A-list celebrities. I feel a twinge of guilt. "Sorry." I mumble out, though I'm not sure for what. It's the truth. I don't have the munny for a cell phone, much less the monthly bill it comes with.

"No. It's cool—should have put that together on my own. What time works for you?"

"The usual date time is, like, seven right?"

"Then I'll come get you at six." I make a gah sort of noise. "Where do you live?" and I tell him the exactness of my address. This is very old fashioned, this sort of picking me up. I've never had anyone bother to do this for me. My stomach is…tingling? Butterflies? For Axel of all people? But the more I listen to him talk I realize I'm excited for our date. Absolutely terrified about what it means for my career, but excited is thrown into my emotional mixing pot too.

"See you at six Roxas," even his voice is sexy right now. Man, it's been too long since I got laid.

"See you at six," I say, making the six sound almost like sex but not quite, and I give him my best coy voice before hanging up the phone. Oh my god. This tingling feeling will not stop, like someone dropped an Alka-Seltzer straight into my blood system, and all the little bubbles are popping along my veins.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Its practically business, this isn't real. But it doesn't matter how many times I tell myself that, these feelings will not cease and desist.

I'm such a sucker for sexy, fit as fuck, men—even pretentious assholes.

Sora returns with ice, pills and a glass of water. "Thank you," I say and I take the combo from him. He sits on the edge of my bed with a stupid expression. "What?"

"Roxas and Axel siting in a tree…"

"Are you twelve?!" I yell over him.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G," my yelling only encourages him to go louder.

I punch him in the arm, hard.

He falls into easy laughter. "A date, huh? I've never seen you go on a real date with anybody."

"You haven't known me very long." He goes quiet. Two for two, Roxas. "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I've gone on dates before." Though…he's right. I'm not one for dating, just the sex part. I'm good at that part.

Sora does his best to bounce back but the hurt wears on him. I should really learn to think before I speak, I've never had to give a shit about anyone else's feelings before. There are a whole slew of simple true things that I now can't say or have to skirt around. I really wish that it were different.

"So," Sora says, his voice playful. "What're you going to do today?"

I shrug, placing the ice on my eye. "See Hayner. Get lunch. Get ready for the date. You?"

"Go to practice. Riku wont be back for a couple days so that's pretty much it."

"Oh yeah?" My heart lumps in my chest. I'm going to need to masturbate at least twice before the shindig so I can last more then thirty seconds when Axel and I get down and dirty. "When will you be home?"

"Around five I guess."

"Perfect."

He gives me a funny look and then smiles. "Ohhhh. I see."

"Yes. I don't tease you about it when Riku comes to town."

"I suppose that is true."

"And these walls are very thin you know?"

"Get any good tips?"

"Ugh. I've rubbed off on you too much already."

He sticks out his tongue. "I hope you rub off on Axel tonight."

"Ah! Gods! Shut up!"

Sora rolls back on my comforter and laughs, and I know all is forgiven and that we'll be fine. We'll always be fine. That's one of the great things about Sora; he's not all jaded and bitter like I am. Maybe he's rubbing off on me that way too.

I swing my legs out of bed and get dressed quickly. Sora continues to talk while I look through my drawers, making sure to keep everything relatively neat.

"Where do you think he'll take you?"

"'Dunno." I pull a shirt over my head, it all black, big surprise. Guess what color my jeans are? They're white. My shoes are checkered. I really go all out with the color schemes.

"He's got to be loaded. Dinner by candle light…"

"Then to the struggle ring for a good pounding."

Its his turn to make a grossed out face at me, he throws a pillow. "Hey!" I say indignantly, before throwing it back at him. We are not young girls at the start of a lesbian porn. I grab my wallet and keys, shoving both into my back pockets and head for the door. "You want anything while I'm out?"

"Pick out some junk food. Something Wakka would kill me if he knew I was eating."

I salute him. "Salty-sweet jumbo, pretzel, cotton candy, chocolate chip supreme."

"Bye." He says almost sarcastically.

"Bye." I mock.

I leave the apartment, get on the trolley, and head for the hospital. A couple people ask about my black eye but I fend them off well enough with 'I'm fine' and 'It looks worse then it really is.'

I by pass Yuna, the nurse, with a simple hello, and she too fusses over me. I insist for what feels like the thousandth time that I'm really okay and I head for Hayner's room. I feel like I should apologies to him for not coming yesterday. Silly, isn't it?

Then I see that Seifer's already there in my place. He's just sitting with his feet propped up on Hayner's bedside reading the struggle magazines I left out for Hayner. Seifer has touched everything, squeezed all of Olette's knitted animals, taken down and put back Pence's Polaroid's, and read all of the cards I made.

It's all different, in strange spots around Hayner's room.

I feel a senseless sort of loss and I want to barge right in there and say. "Get the hell out!" Then again, I invited him so I suck it up. Though I'm frozen in between 'fuck it Ill go in' and 'I'll come back later'. And I'm there to watch through the little window in the door Seifer pull down his feet, take Hayner's hand, and kiss him so incredibly delicately on the forehead.

 _I see._

Man. I'm an idiot…all those signs yesterday. I wonder why Hayner never told me. Maybe there was nothing to tell, maybe it was all one sided from Seifer. Though, he doesn't have the expression of a scorned man. Not at all like someone who wasn't loved back.

Betrayal hits me harder then it should. I can't believe I'm angry with my best friend who's in a coma. But there you have it, the human psyche. I just mean, I am the only one who was supposed to have secrets. That's what I really liked about Hayner, about all of them actually, everything was so straight foreword.

I leave the hospital. I can't stay. I stop by the store like a zombie. Hurling random junk food into my cart, and self-essentials.

Sora's not home when I get back. Which is good—now for two reasons. I pull the things I bought for myself and head to the bedroom. All I have to focus on is getting ready for my date, so I do just that.

~.~

Hello. ^^ The date is next chapter. Or well. The start of it. I really like the date chapters. I think they're just the right amount of smutty (or well one of them really is) See you next weekend, hopefully.

Heartache Fetish ~ Young & Sick

Shadow Flash ~ Indiana

Suit ~ Boom! Bap! Pow!

2AM ~ Astrid S


	6. Chapter 6

"You look ridiculous." I say opening the door to Axel who is, to my surprise, right on time. Axel's wearing tight black dress pants that show off his muscled legs and a nice pair of dress shoes, sounds fine right? Then, an open bright purple blazer with zebra print lining, a button down patterned with the galaxy, tucked in, with the first few buttons undone and no tie. To top it all off he's got his hair pulled completely into a beanie and sunglasses, currently resting on his head.

"How sweet," he picks my hand up and kisses it. "You look ravishing."

 _I know_. Sora and I agonized about what to wear. We settled on skinny black pants, and an off-white button down that cuts off at the elbow. My wristband exchanged for a nice leather piece and I'm wearing several of my choice rings. Classic. Sexy. Simple. The swelling in my eye finally went down enough for me to look like an actual person, I ringed my eyes in a black eyeliner much less expertly then Axel who has winged his out.

I press myself into him, forcing his ear down to my mouth, my hand strategically placed at his heart. "Sora's going to ask you to sign something," I whisper and kiss him on the cheek. He laughs a short laugh at the unexpected words. "I'll be right back." And I pull away heading to my bedroom. I'm acutely pleased that Axel's eyes travel the length of my back, land on my ass, and stay there.

Sora steps in front of Axel first chance he can. "Hey, I'm Sora." He says sheepishly extending a hand.

"Twins, huh?" Axel smirks, taking his hand. I roll my eyes and tune out the rest of their conversation.

I grab all of my things. Keys. Wallet. Trolley fair. Extra condoms. Travel sized lube. Breakfast bar, breath mints, and deodorant are for the morning. Hey. I'm no idiot. I've mastered the essentials to make my walk of shame less shameful.

Everything's tucked neatly into my side satchel, which I pull over my head before walking back to the living room. Gaayyy. I know, but how the hell else would I carry everything. In pants this tight pockets only do me so much good.

The living room is filled with the buzz of Sora endlessly talking. "I'm ready." I intrude, cutting my brother off who promptly look embarrassed.

"Nice to meet you." He nods, before bowing out. Sora turns back to hug me goodbye, very touchy. "Have fun," and he gives me a wicked look.

Axel holds out his hand. "Shall we?"

I slide my fingers between his. "Lets go."

We walk for a good while. "What no fancy ride?" Cars are sort of uneconomical in Twilight Town since the trolley can take you anywhere you want to go, but for the absurdly rich, cars are a status symbol. Peasants walk. Kings ride in their carriage and all the bullshit.

"No," he still hasn't dropped my hand; I have to bend my elbow to keep our fingers interlocked. "Must hand left it in my other pants." Axel looks down at me from the corner of his eye. "How am I doing so far?"

"What, date wise?" Axel nods. "It just started. I'll let you know if you get an A."

"I'll get an A plus."

"I'll let you have whatever you want if you do." I say sarcastically, making it very clear I don't think that's going to happen.

"Whatever I want? Huh. I like the sound of that."

I roll my eyes. With Axel leading me we head toward the Twilight Tower. I hold my breath as we pass under the large clock, heading into the train station. I try my best to ignore the tingling feeling of dread in the base of my skull. Axel must notice my beginning panic attack but he says nothing.

Okay….? We've by-passed the ticket booth. We pass a whole line of trains, and then there it is. Ahh. I fucking knew it would be something like this.

"Your own personal train car?" I shake my head. I know its got to be Axel's because of the gaudy color purple its painted, not to mention the matching red flames running down each side. It's ugly, and a press magnet, which renders his shitty disguise useless.

Axel's face is all smirk, and it bothers me that I can't see his eyes. "She's a beauty isn't she?"

"You aren't color blind, right?"

"Nope. I'm naturally able to pair things with subtle balance." Axel pulls me inside. Nodding hello to a bodyguard dressed in a white apron. The inside _is_ better—mostly neutral tones. There are couches instead of benches, with many throw pillows and silk sheets of color.

The bodyguard, who I now understand is a waiter, puts a glass of Champaign in my hand.

I take a sip. Oh, that's actually quite nice. "I see you chose the casual date. Nothing too flashy."

Axel sits, crossing his legs sensually. He's removed his beanie and sunglasses and damn is fine in the low light. His features are a low smolder, slowly warming me. The train car starts to move.

"I didn't want to overwhelm you. Not yet."

"Not…yet?" I repeat, unable to think of anything clever to say. What else is he planning? This is atmosphere plenty for fucking. I sit next to him and finish my drink hoping to settle the sizzle under my skin. Getting drunk probably isn't the best idea, but hey.

Axel smoothly puts an arm around me, not touching me just laid on the back of the couch, but I can still feel him so he might as well be feeling me up. The waiter flies by to refill my drink and Axel's, setting the bottle on the table.

"So," Axel says looking straight into my eyes. "How old are you?"

My brows furrow together. "Twenty."

"You're younger then I thought."

"Pfft. Everyone thinks I'm like sixteen. I get I.D.'d at R-rated movies."

Axel snorts a laugh, drinking his own glass of Champaign. I notice that were turned into each other, me just as much as Axel.

"Well that's what I thought at first too, but then I saw you fight and I thought you had one of those faces. I settled on twenty four."

"Hm. Four years. You're a generous man."

"I like to think so."

"Why? How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine."

"You're ancient." I deadpan. "You got your walker hidden around here somewhere?" I look around for effect, but get caught back up in Axels gaze, and swallow more of my drink.

"Roxas."

"I hope you're still spry for your old age." I say, nerves getting best of my ability to shut the hell up. He rolls his eyes. _Calm down,_ I berate myself. Gods. You'd think I'd never been on a date before based solely just on the jittery bubbling in my stomach.

"I think it says a lot about my beauty that I can still get a sixteen year old like yourself."

I shrug playfully. "You've got munny."

"Because _you're_ a gold digger."

I lull my head back to rest on his arm; I'm popping with tension. I have to swallow before I speak, trying my best to sound sexy and cool and coy. "A business man. I do you," pausing I watch the twitch of a smile on his lips," a service, and get adequately paid."

"So that, not impressed with munny or fame…all an act?" Axel's leaning his head into mine, I can almost feel his hot breath on my skin, and it gives me goose bumps.

"Completely," I almost whisper. Using my tongue to sound out the word sensually.

And then we kiss. I've kissed before. Guys. Girls. The occasional transvestite. But…kissing Axel is different then all of that. I've never felt that thing you know? That tingle, gut wrenching…thing. We're like two electrical rods sparking in the middle.

The kiss itself is sweet, his lips press wholly into mine making my mouth come away burning. The static isn't just in my groin, but there's the promise of pleasure reaching all the way to my fingertips and toes. Axel's hands are in my hair pulling my face closer as he continues to move his mouth against mine.

I'm ensnared. Trapped in the circle of his arms as we make out.

There are a lot of things I've forgotten about kissing, I fall into the usual pattern of course. My lips a massage, our heads twisting to better accommodate each other so close, I run my hands down Axels ripped chest. However, there's other stuff too. The awkward press of his nose into my cheek, the occasional bump of teeth as we figure each other out, how wet it can be. Lets not forget the noise, that smacking pulse.

I'm tight with want, stretching me thin. I'm about to make the move to straddle him, when the train stops.

Axel stops kissing me, but he leaves out faces close. "We're here," his voice is dripping with lust and fuck it all if I don't care that we are 'here', but he stands pulling me with him.

"Don't pout," he chides to which I stick my lip out further. He smiles kissing me deeply like our first kiss wasn't two seconds ago. "I have plans to sufficiently woo you. I don't want to spoil them." But his eyes say that's exactly what he'd like to do.

And still we get off the train.

~.~

Mutha fuckin date night. I love these next two chapters, let me know if you like where this is heading also. ^^

Heartbeat ~ Kopecky

That's what I like ~ Flo Rida

Shadow Flash ~ Indiana

Wherever Is Your Heart ~ Brandie Carlile


	7. Chapter 7

We exit onto the platform, so in the bowels of Sunset Town that I don't recognize where we are, at least, not at first.

"The beach?" I follow Axel skeptically; he's taken back up hand holding. "Why the beach?"

"You can't even bare the thought of being surprised?" Axels voice still has that weight—of what we started but didn't finish on the train. I didn't take Axel for a gentleman, of course, I didn't take him for that good of a kisser either. Still, this is awfully romantic for a do and drop, but if you have munny flaunt it, right?

The platform opens directly onto the sand; the sun is dripping low into the water casting the world in last light. There are palm trees nearer to the shore, clustered together at the edges. Luckily, there is a stone path. I did not wear the right shoes for tromping all around in the sand.

"So," axel says clearing his throat, dragging me along. "Why did you get into Struggle?"

I give him an odd look. "Are we really walking along the beach at sunset?"

"Currently, but we're walking somewhere. So be patient and answer the question pretty please."

I just can't imagine where we are going. The beach is pretty deserted, so boning in the sand isn't out of the question, but I'd rather not. Us sinking into the wet sand, the waves rolling up our legs as he thrusts into me. The mental image alone is enough to threaten a boner, but it's not the best place, especially not for a first time. I just don't want sand in my ass crack for days to come; it's not too much to ask.

I also don't know why we are talking, when we could be doing other things.

"Hayner got me into struggle. It got weirdly competitive between us, but never friendship ruining. It was always so fun, and now that he's…uh…" I clear my throat letting the sentence wander until lost. I shouldn't have said so much, I drank more then I thought if its this easy to talk to Axel.

"Hayner is…"

"My boyfriend." Axel stops dead, I almost run into him and I swear gives me the most incredulous look yet. I bust up laughing.

"You ass."

"Like you don't have multiple partners."

He rolls his eyes and keeps moving. "You've got me all figured out, huh?" And his look is a challenge.

I swallow. "Maybe not." I admit. My head swirling, from the drinks I had or Axels smooth tone or the taste of him, I'm not sure. "Why did you get into Struggle?"

"My brother," his voice goes very far away. "He…liked it. Used to watch it with me after he got off work. When I was about ten he entered me in a Struggle match hoping I'd somehow kick ass."

"And you did?"

"No. I was shit, but I wanted him to be proud of me. So, together, we trained really hard and the next match I kicked ass—for a ten year old in so much padding I could barely move anyway…" He chuckles and I follow suit, it's a cute story. "So is Hayner, is he, the boy in the hospital?

This makes that bubbly head spin stop, all I can do is nod as Axel looks at me and try to repress any thought, any little tiny memory. I don't want Axel to see, and for some reason, I feel like he is really looking.

"He wasn't your boyfriend was he? I mean, before?"

I laugh, because its absurd. I never even entertained the idea because Hayner liked girls. String bikinis and big titties, those were his go to reasons to drool over some poor girl. "No, he's straight." Or well, I guess not, but Axel doesn't need to know that. I give him a sideways glance. "Why?"

"Unresolved love. I can't compete with that."

 _Why would you want to?_ But I don't say that, he's charming me into thinking that this wont be more then a one-time thing. Dude. You're already getting in my pants don't waste your energy, but I don't say that either. I'm enjoying the fantasy.

Axel pulls me around a bend of palm trees and hidden just there on the dock is a low jet-black speedboat—the moonlight making the glossing paint job gleam.

Its one of those luxury boats with a cabin built into the back. Axel has put up poles all around the edge and strung string lights holding little lanterns to light up the deck. In the wood there's a half circle cut and pillows set all around. There's a picnic basket and a bucket full of choice bottles.

It's beautiful. I'm filled with a sort of crushing awe.

"Make yourself comfortable." Axel says in my ear, my back pressing into his front and all I want to do is turn around and kiss him. Hard. With all the appreciation I can muster, but he's gone before I get the chance.

I watch him pull up the anchor, then turn back touching my side gently. "Sit, please. Gotta play captain for a second." So I do, pulling of my shoes like a right hooligan. I sit crossed legged among the throw pillows as Axel takes the helm as starts up the engine.

I look away from him, closing my eyes as the wind pulls at my hair and clothes. Over the water the stars are reflected, like a net of fairy lights pulled over the ocean as Axel propels us through the cosmos.

Fuck am I turned on.

We make small talk, of course, the weather. The date. Struggle. I pick out of the bucket something that looks similar to what we had on the train, undo the wrapping, search around for the cork puller, find it and pop the bottle. Only I cant find glasses, either they're cleverly hidden or I'm blind. Whatever. Axels watching the water, taking us far from shore.

It'll just be him and me with no chance of escaping this God awful wonderful feeling. I take a swig and then another. It's not the same as what I had on the train, but instead, a smooth white wine. I feel less pinched, less awkward with the alcohol soothing my mind into a more comfortable state.

Axel looks back at me and laughs. "Getting started without me?"

I undo the front buttons on my shirt, and look at him through my lashes. "Would you like me to?"

His face is all lust. "No," he says coyly. "Id rather make you wait, seems a befitting punishment for starting without me."

"Tease," I say leaning back on my arm. I take another swig my vision a swirl of night sky and Axel. A flare in the night, a brightness about him that makes him feel wrong on the water, like a flame cast into the ocean.

Axel barks a laugh. "I'm the best kind of tease."

"Prove it."

Axel kills the engine at my words or because we've reached our destination I don't know. He leaves the wheel walking with the confidence of a man who knows he's being watched, he bends over those ridiculously long legs to drop anchor, to rise up slowly looking back over his shoulder, and smiling. Not smirking, smiling. I'm flush with drink and I smile stupidly back at him.

He walks over to me and throws himself down. Smoothly he snatches the bottle from me and takes several long drinks. I am memorized by his Adams apple bobbing up and down along his pale neck.

"Did you…do all of this? Or you know…did you pay someone?" Axels digging into the basket behind him, he presses something into my hand, ah food. I take small bites, its good. Just like everything else.

"I actually did all of this." My eyebrows go up, I survey the décor again, my heart beating with a heavy thump. "What don't believe me?"

"No," I'm now sufficiently buzzed and I know Axel can tell. "I don't see why you would bother."

Axel takes my hand, flipping over to my palm. He touches me like I'm glass. "Would you believe me if I said I did it because I wanted to?"

I shake my head slowly. "No."

"Then because I like you."

"Why?" I'm an asshole, I have no problem admitting it.

Axel's mouth draws into a pensive frown, his face suddenly to serious for my liking. Then he has the glint of someone who could get away with anything. "I don't know." I scoff. "But Id like to find out." He slips his finger under my chin pulling me in for one of those tender kisses, pressing his mouth into mine gently. Though, tender doesn't last and soon were hungrily kissing each other. I open my mouth and Axel takes the invitation, his tongue expertly working around mine. Axel's hands are everywhere, at my hips, drawing me nearer still. At the small of my back and down to the curve of my ass.

I try to match him, but I think I've drunk too much because I'm too frozen in the moment to do anything but wrap my arms around his neck. All I can do is let him touch me, and boy, does he do that well.

Axel pulls away, I lock my arms, why did he take up all the way out here if not for this?

"So," he says into my face, his breath like cinnamon. "Top or bottom?"

"You're kidding right?" He looks at me sharply. "You're _not_ a bottom, are you?" I say, almost fearfully. I like getting held down and fucked until I literally cant take it anymore. I never imagined Axel liking the same but stranger things have happened.

"Versatile," Axel sticks out his tongue. "I'm a man of many talents."

"tonight, your talent is topping."

"Good to know." He pauses. "Dominant or submissive?"

I blush. "Why?"

"Not that I'm going to have much of a problem it seems, but id like to know the best way to please you."

"Submissive."

"Always…or?"

"No," I'm beet red, I know it. "Why does it matter?"

"Good. I enjoy being dominant, but its nice to mix it up too."

"Okay," I agree quickly, trying to push back that nagging voice that says this is a one time only deal. All Axel's effort to know me a waste of one night pleasure.

He kisses me with more passion then before, making me dizzy, as if he let himself loose, and I know this time we wont stop.

~.~

Ahaha. Please review!


	8. Chapter 8

Axels mouth works wonders.

I glide my hands over his broad shoulders; shuffling under his blazer I peal the layer of fabric from his body. Then down over his chest, feeling over layers of corded muscles and where he's bandaged from cracking a rib, I nearly forgot he was injured, I'll have to mindful. Which is hard to do when your head is swirling with drink and the deep desire to bone.

Axel's fingers are not mindful; they dig, kneading into my flesh. He sets me alive with flame, it dancing underneath wherever he touches. Suddenly, I'm on my back Axels face above me, blocking out the sky.

He grabs both my wrists pinning them up above me, the softness of the blanket an opposite to his harsh grip. My heart ba-dums in my chest when his eyes meet mine, he's certainly not afraid to let me know he's watching, that he sees.

Slowly, his lips press into my forehead, brushing over my eyes, so close I can feel the brush of his eyelashes—his sweet caress a shiver of anticipation.

I wrap my legs around his waist, tightening enough to touch our groins together, but Axel catches me at the hip and slams me back into the deck; the boat tipping ever so slightly, and once completely trapped by him he returns to his route of kissing my face and neck.

I hate that he's beautiful from every angle. Even the angle from underneath his chin, even from the spot between his brows, even when he's so close he's just a blur of not-quite familiar.

My wrists pinched against his one hand, the heat of him and what he can do with his mouth overwhelming. I buck up again, and hit my mark.

"Shit," he moans, to which I have to agree. _Shit._ From just the feel of him against my half-chub I can tell he's big. I knew he would be because of his insane tall-ness, but fuck, when they say third leg it's usually a let down.

Our bodies press together, his dick bulging even though we've only been kissing—not that I can say I have had any luck with self-control.

My breath catches when he unexpectedly bites into my neck, sucking and working his tongue down to my collarbones to the length of my sternum, undoing my buttons as he goes. _Pop pop pop_. Eventually he gets so low he has to let go of my hands and I comb my fingers through his long red locks as his wet tongue swirls around my nipples.

His hands and mouth are a deadly duo; Axel brushes his lips down the front of my chest. Un-doing the first button on my pants, his head right before my belt line his mouth trailing down my treasure trail.

Of course, he pauses to smirk up at me, and catches me looking like a dog in heat. I'm sure I'm glossy with lust, which makes his smirk broaden. Not to be out done I grab a fistful from the back of his shirt and pull it up over his head, throwing it somewhere in the distance.

 _Splash._ Opps.

Lost to laugher Axel presses his forehead into my lower abdomen, and I laugh too, albeit a little more shyly then Axel. Then his mouth is on mine once again, his trip a short one back up from the front of my pants.

I've never felt so comfortable, what is it people say? In tune with someone. Maybe it's because of the time he's putting into being gentle with me. It is agonizingly sweet, and he hasn't even touched my penis yet. My heart constricts at the thought of our one night affair. When I imagined going to bed with someone famous…well, I didn't expect him to be so damn good at it.

When you can have anyone you want and know they wont complain, why bother?

'I like you,' he had said, the words rattle my mind and I put my hands on his now bare shoulders. Axel takes down one of my arms, his touch feather light, gliding just above my skin, until the end where he threads our fingers together.

Axel moves away and I take the time to breathe, as its becoming more laborious as we go on. Much quicker then before he bends to my lower half, and pulls down my pants roughly, his own cheeks flushed red. The cold hits my dick and it twitches under Axels gaze. I push up to my elbows kicking off the offensive material with Axel's assistance. For a second he's frozen look at _me,_ rubbing himself through his pants.

I lower my head to the side and spread my legs wide for his viewing pleasure. My hand is still awkwardly twisted in his, but I don't want to let go.

Which is good I guess because when he goes down on me I hold on for dear life.

Axel plays no games when it comes to giving head, his lips slip over the head of my penis, tongue at the tip where I've begun dripping pre-cum, and then he swallows me whole.

 _ **Fuck.**_

I throw my head back and moan, unable to keep the noise from escaping. I thrust up instinctively but Axel's free hand holds me down. My legs are bent around his face and boy is he a sight at this angle, I watch in awe as he hollows out his cheeks bobbing up and down twisting his head ever so slightly. His mouth is so wet, and so warm.

I put my hand back in Axel's hair, only pulling when he's nearly choking himself on my cock (which is big enough, by the way).

I'm filled with only pleasure—Axel moves his hand placing his fingers in between my butt cheeks with his thumb just over my taint, the appendage working small circles. My heartbeat is in my groin, boom boom boming. Im quivering trying not to cum too soon, and we haven't even gotten to the really fun part.

My moans are in time with the slurping sound louder then our kisses. He's so god damn good looking, I brush the excess hair away from his sweaty forehead. "I wanna suck yours too." I say, my voice heavy.

"Yeah?" he says around my cock—the vibrations making me tick once.

"Yes."

Axel smiles lifting from his place, spit stretching from his bottom lip to my member and he licks them deliberately. As he kisses me I taste myself on him, salty in the mix of his burn.

I push his shoulder and he rolls to his back without complaint. I work deftly to undo his pants, sitting up on him trying to ignore that way he has of looking at me. The fabric gives when I pull, Axel lifting his hips to make the journey easier, exposing him to the night air.

I laugh out right.

Axel sits up on his elbows clearly confused, "it's never gotten that reaction before."

I wrap my hand around his monster cock and put my mouth to his ear, "You aren't a natural red head." I say, referring to the curls of black. For some reason this fills me with mirth, like I know one of his secrets.

Axels mouth latches to the first bit of flesh he can reach, his fingers doing that thing again where they glide over my skin.

I could cum right now, but it's my turn to leave him paralyzed with pleasure, and I press my mouth to every bit of exposed skin I can, trying my best to work around his bandages. I know my approach is more an attack then a gentle caress as I work my way down the length of his lean, fit-as-fuck body.

My tongue is fully out licking the deep V of his hips, pointing me down when Axel stops me. What now? I want to feel Axel more then I have wanted anything.

Its crazy how easily he picks me up and flips me around so that were in position for 69ing instead, his hands guiding me into the position he wishes. The fact that he can just throw me around turns me on even more.

Axel's hands kneads my ass, he brings his fingers down to his palm pinching the flesh in between. "How do you keep this so round?" Axel's voice makes me shiver almost as harshly as his touch.

"Squats," I reply breathlessly.

Axel chuckles before I hear a smack and feel one of his fingers prod my hole. "Ahhh…" Is all I can muster when he pushes the first digit inside of me, his mouth more teasing with my cock then before.

I'm fucking lousy at sucking dick when I'm getting fingered I realize. I think its usually one of my better assets, but when I'm face to face with Axel's nine inch, thick as hell, shaft I feel like I'm doing it all wrong. I have to put my hand around the base, while I try to masterfully please him, but instead just sloppily wet his cock. His moans are gruff, so I guess I'm doing an aright job but he's definitely doing me better.

His fingers easily thrusting into me, by now he's discovered that I prepared myself and has upped to two fingers and boy, like everything on this man, his fingers are long. The sensation of Axels penis at the back of my throat and his fingers pressing so deep, and his tongue lashing out to touch my penis every so often escalates. Until, before I know it, I'm overcome.

Literally. "Axel, I cant," I ejaculate prematurely, splattering my load down on his chest. My body constricts, my back arching while Axel finger fucks me through my orgasm.

I collapse back into reality and blush feeling a full sweep of embarrassment. Too fast. I throw my leg over Axel, trying not to make any noise when his fingers leave me, but I fail.

"That good, huh?"

"Shut up," I reach around for my bag. Axel touches himself, pulling his cock sideways. His green eyes on me.

"You aren't planning on leaving are you?"

"Not a chance." I have to dig for a minute to find the lube I brought, but I do quickly enough.

"Roxas," Axel breaths when he sees what I have, and reaches for it, easily swiping it from me. Then I'm on my back and Axels mouth is pressing down on mine fiercely, his thirst suddenly must have overwhelmed him. It takes hardly any time at all for me to get hard again.

He squirts the lube onto his hand and spreads it between my butt cheeks, prodding inside for good measure. I am putty in his hands, he can mold me however he likes, I am lost to the fever as I watch him slather his dick.

"Wait," I say when he lines his shaft up with my hole. He does, his expression saying that he is no longer in the mood for patience. "Not to be a buzz kill, but do you, like, have any STD's or anything?" We are about to bareback; I really don't know where he has been.

"No." but that's it. Oh well, good enough for me. Axel pushes my legs into my chest, my ass lifting towards him—they go easily, my knees at my shoulders. I'm flexible, a discovery Axel seems very pleased with. He lines himself up again, and begins to press inside.

There's nothing quite so mind numbing as having a dick in your ass—Axels is threatening to pull me apart. I feel him around my hole, his huge cock stretching me out, and slowly pushing deeper until I feel the brush of his thighs on my butt cheeks. I cry out, my hands finding his forearms, fingernails digging into his skin.

Axel looks down at where our bodies connect, and I'm looking too, at him buried to the hilt in my body. "Its all in."

I can see that dipshit, but I don't have enough cognitive function to get anything more then. "Fuck."

He pulls out slowly, and then rolls his hips into push back into me creating a rhythm. I'm lost to sensation, to the buzz, the burn in every corner of my body as he fucks me. Axel makes it a point to capture my gaze. The bends over me, my legs trapped over his shoulders, folding me into my self.

Axel puts his fists to the ground as an anchor before drawing back and thrusting hard and fast. I string together a chorus of 'ah' and 'oh' and 'yeah' as our skin slaps together in the middle.

I'm gasping for air, as his dick is so big it rubs against my prostate without effort, with each thrust a new wave of pleasure explodes under my skin.

Axel tries to kiss me, I press my lips into his but I can't keep my jaw shut long enough, the noises needing to escape from me. My whole body quivering.

Axel slows back to the rhythm before. He pushes my legs wide, holding onto my hips.

 _Oh God._ Axel pulls me in and presses himself close his cock so deep inside of me I cant think straight, holding me in the confines of pleasure, before continuing to move. Slowly, Slowly. Slowly. Then he's aggressive, dominant slamming my body into the hard wood underneath. We have turned to beasts in the moonlight, filled only with need.

I can't take it anymore. My hand draws around my shaft. I need release; the pull is too strong, all my joints on the very edge just before the big finish.

Axel draws me into his wide chest, lifting into strong arms as he pounds pleasure through my very core. I arch into him, his hands holding me steady as I cum for the second time, unable to do anything but twitch and touch myself.

His mouth is on mine, hungry, like everything about his movement now. His thrusts are all for himself, and I like that post orgasm, it still feels so good, and I start doing what I know will help him along.

Axel, very much a gentleman, pulls out before cumming on my abdomen, the peak of his pleasure splattering hotly on my skin.

His face is an O of ecstasy, he's thrown his head back as if about to howl he strokes himself, and I watch his muscles spasm until he is finished.

I sit up to kiss him tenderly, surprised with myself. I'm not one to hold onto a moment, but this one is just so good. I give into the fantasy, I let myself kiss him like I could like him too, like we just made love for the first time, and that there will be other nights. Tender kisses remembered as once weres, and re-called when we had other milestones together. I kiss him thankfully, feeling a completely foreign warmth clutch my heart.

Axel smiles into the kiss, his hands just as delicate as before, as if I am somehow precious, and I want to believe that I could be. That I am.

He lays on his stomach, making a show of his tiredness, laying a hand on my thigh.

"You were better then I expected." I say.

"What kind of pillow talk is that?"

I shrug, "the honest kind." He has a sheen of sweat along his back. I walk my finders down his spine, until I reach the curve of his own naked ass. Already I feel the ache of his absence.

Then I catch his gaze and I smile knowingly. Axel takes me up in his arms once more, I'm in for a long night.


	9. Chapter 9

It's hot.

I try to kick back the covers from myself and get a disgruntled grunt as my foot contacts with a leg, and an arm lazily thrown over me. Even hotter.

Axel is a furnace; he's curled around me, as many appendages as he can manage tangled with mine. It's too much; my skin is sticky with sweat where our naked bodies touch.

Running a hand down my face I recall last nights events. Getting up is going to be a bitch. I turn to the man beside me, blinking groggily. I brush my forefinger gently over the curve of his cheekbone and down the sharp angle of his chin. He sleeps with his mouth open, fully submerged in his pillow. The make-up he must have carefully applied now fucked, and his breath is on the side of rank, and I find myself smiling and thinking about how good he looks.

I must finally be losing it.

We fucked until early in the morning, moving to the cabin after it got to cold to continue under the stars. Then I suppose we fell asleep. Which is odd. I've been able to remember going to sleep since I was very small, willing myself to just shut off. I've never bee able to just sleep, no games, no counting, no recalling, no crying. No nightmares.

Maybe intense exercise is my key to a good nights sleep.

Carefully, I move Axels arm enough to wiggle out of his grasp and sit up. _Ouch_. It's worse then I thought it would be.

Oh. There are the blankets in a big wad in the corner. I stand my legs nearly jelly. How the fuck am I supposed to get back to the train station? Lots of prayer I guess.

I bend, trying to block out the pain, and tie a sheet around my waist, as I return to a standing position the boat tips. I freeze. Forget the station. How the fuck am I supposed to even get back to shore?

My face is only a glare directed at the tall bare-assed man still curled around where I once was. Taking me prisoner like this. I wonder if he planned it, if he knew that I would want to leave in the morning to avoid the awkward one night stand drop off. My stomach turns at the thought of a stereotypical 'morning after'. Morning after a good date. A date I would have catalogued as my best date until a better one came along.

But I have woken up. The fantasy shed and there is only the reality of what our night was. Part of me wants only to get back into bed, wake up next to him, what could happen? I wont do that. Cant do that.

Fucker. Morning after's are for lovers, and well, we are not that.

Stemming my annoyance I walk outside and breathe a sigh. Docked. Axel must have driven the boat back while I was sleeping. Though the idea that I didn't even stir baffles me. I wake up if Sora gets up to pee in the middle of the night, and his bathroom is on the other side of the apartment.

My clothes are in a tangle with Axels, much like our bodies once were, except for his shirt, which was lost to sea last night. I laugh to myself, but work quickly, dressing with practiced ease. My lower back is throbbing, but there are worse things.

"Who're you?" A female voice snaps through he rolling waves. I turn, shocked. On the dock there is a tall woman standing there with her arms crossed over his chest. She's wearing all black, and has equally long black hair that hangs loosely around her body. She's older, maybe forty, forty-five but beautiful. There's a mean look about her, a guard, that makes me instantly decide she isn't one of Axel's partners.

"Nobody. Who're you?"

"Tifa. Hot shot's manager." She's the one who turned when I ratted Axel out in the hospital. The one who thanked me. "This is where he goes to hide from me, like I don't know." Tifa saunters over to the door, making the motions like she's going to kick it in.

Time to go. I swing my leg over the side of the boat and I'm prepared to make my break for it when his manager says. "He's asleep?" As if that is shocking, it is god awful early in the morning. I shrug when she looks over at me from the corner of her eye.

"Its just that he doesn't sleep. Has nightmares." Sounds crazy close to my own predicament and I feel a pinch I cant explain. It's none of my business. Tifa sets me on edge the way she looks into the cabin. Her face has gained fondness, not like she's in love with Axel but just the simple purity of caring about someone. Really caring about them. About whether or not they get enough sleep.

Though, her expression changes as soon as she turns back to me, her gaze almost accusatory. I make to turn, our encounter long done but she says. "Need a ride?" Roping me back in to her presence once again.

"Sure," I say flippantly. I could use a ride.

Tifa hops out ahead of me, taller then I am. "This way, kiddo."

 _Bitch._ I think, but stick my hands in my pockets and follow her. I really need a shower. I feel grubby, sticky in all the right places at the time, all the wrong places now—like my asshole being slick. No longer sexy.

Tifa leads me through the denser palm trees that hide a small parking lot, where two cars are parked. A flat black business looking car to which Tifa yanks open the driver's side and gets in unceremoniously waiting for me to do the same. The other is some high brand luxury car, painted bright purple.

Did he really have plans to take me home?

Like everything else in this morning after I feel shaken up once again by this new piece of information about Axels plans for me. Stirred with a slew of emotions I can hardly sort through. My heart picking up speed at each turn, each time I ask myself why.

I get into Tifa's car, and she promptly starts the car and turns out onto the highway, her blinker tick-tocking into our silence.

"Where to?" She asks.

"Twilight Town." I don't look at her. I look out the window, watching the posh Sunset Town fade away into blocks of color and shape.

"No shit," she says. "Where in Twilight Town?"

"I can make my way once were there."

"Okay," the silence drags. And then she says uncomfortably, shifting in her seat. "With Axel. I mean. This was probably…"

"Only a one time thing." I cut her off. "I know."

She furrows her brow, probably at me, but her eyes are on the road, only occasionally do they flicker to me.

"So why'd you go out with him? Just to say that you did?" She questions, angry ,short. As if I should have put more thought into having sex with Axel.

"I wont tell in anybody." I say. Its ridiculous, I'm sure some people would tell everyone they could. If I do make it, and it becomes known that I slept around for scouts I'm sure Id get offered a lot more in exchange for my body. I promised I'd never sell myself.

"Then why?" I can see her calculating, trying to figure out my angle. What I must want from Axel in exchange for the sex. It must be tiring to be his manager if she interrogates everyone he has sex with.

So I tell her the truth. "I Struggle."

" _You_ Struggle?" Her eyebrows shoot right up. I only glare at her, my pride only slightly wounded, and more perturbed then wounded. It's the reaction I always get—from everyone except Axel. "Sorry. Sorry." Little laughs escape through her dismissive apology. "Which gym?"

"Cid's." 

"Really?"

"Yes. Really."

"Cid's a friend of mine. You the kid with the beanie or the one with two bats?" What?

"Two bats." I say slowly. Cid talks about me? To people like Tifa who could make or break my career in a heartbeat. What Hayner would give to be sitting in a car with someone like her. I should try a little more.

Tifa turns off into Twilight Town, if she just keeps going she'll drive right by my complex and I wont have to take the trolley at all. And at this point, the less walking the better.

"Isn't there a match there today?"

My breath catches. I have a fight later on in the week, but it was nearly two days ago when I even thought about it. She's fucking right. My match. The match I need to win to pay my share of rent and a little of the kills I have left over is today in—I glance at the dashboard clock—a little less then two hours.

"Fuck," I say out loud, because that's what I am. Fucked, because I got fucked last night.

"Ill take that as a yes." Tifa smirks at me.

"Stop." I say, startling my driver she practically slams on the breaks. Were in front of my complex. I rush to get out of her car. I pause. _Rude,_ Roxas. I bend down to look her in the face. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem…" she trails as Axel did that first day I met him, an unspoken ask for proper identification.

"Roxas." Her face fills with recognition, which is weird. So far I'm the only person I met with my name and she's looking at me differently now.

"Roxas what?"

"Strife."

Tifa puckers. "Like Cloud Strife?"

"Yeah." I say, not wanting to elaborate. "I have to go."

"See you around, Roxas." And she drives away.

Truthfully, Strife is not my birth last name, not passed to me by those who came before meant for me to pass on to my children. Its what I named myself—after the Struggle fighter Cloud Strife. We look alike and as a kid who so desperately missed his brother. I thought it'd be nice if he was mine. Older, distant, but family.

Stairs are the invention of Satan. They must be. Why cant our building have an elevator. _Because there are only two floors, you lazy piece of shit._

I limp up the stairs with a more effort then I would have liked on jelly legs. I slam my door behind me, and since that wasn't enough I call out. "Sora?"

No answer. Must be out.

Immediately I start a bath, pouring some of the muscle relaxing salts Sora has and pop a couple of pain meds. Though as the water is running I get an urge.

An unstable urge, a pulse alongside my heartbeat, compelling me to unearth my sketchbook and begin a drawing. The pages are frayed and misplaced, with dog-ears and lines of color. It's the only place I allow myself to be messy, to be free. So far it's only sketches for Hayner's cards, prototype after prototype until I get it just right.

I draw out a sketch of Axels face. The angular cheekbones, pointed chin, cat eyes. I try my best to capture his wild hair and cocky smile. I have him down almost to a T without a live model.

I return to the bathroom, catching the water as its about to overflow staring down at the image I've created.

What have I missed? There's something not quite right, but it's all there.

I smudge pencil over his blank cheekbones. There's noting there in real life but I feel like there should be.

I can't believe myself. I shut the sketchbook harshly—the only thing I should be focusing on is the match and I'm nowhere near ready.

~.~

Hey guys. Sorry it's been so long. I went on vacation and then bought Fallout 4. So. I haven't been getting much of anything done. Weee!

My musical recommendation is Blue Neighborhood.

So good.


	10. Chapter 10

When you're a non-signed Struggle player like I am you have to pay your own way. A match in Cid's gym is 1000 munny per player upon entry. It's how he pays the winners fee, and then he makes munny by selling tickets.

I sign up, trying to dismiss the fact that I'm late, so late that there's a crowd lined up around me waiting for the first match to start. They awkwardly knock into my gym bag, my

Struggle bats rubbing together in a way that can't really be good for them. I was supposed to be here at least an hour ago. I also try to dismiss the all-consuming fact that my back is killing me.

I don't know how, I just know that I have to win. Sora will lend me the munny for rent. Hell, he'd pay it all if I'd let him, but I can't do it. We've been roommates longer then brothers—I've been paying my own way since I was six and I can't give that to anyone.

The place is loud but the changing room is quiet—the fighters long pre-paired. Each one is a piss poor sack of shit that hopes to one day get paid to hit people with an over glorified stick, like me. But unlike me they don't forget about their matches.

Changing takes more time then usual, I still have a good thirty minutes before my own match, but Id like to watch who comes before me. Size them up. What are the best at? Floor work? Or striking? Or both? Or neither? Find the chinks in their armor, if you will.

Though, I might not be able to get out until exactly my first turn.

I sit my ass on the floor and begin more stretches, pulling my body flush with one leg, my cramped muscles protesting any kind of movement.

Someone raps on the door with two short knocks. I turn sharply and cringe, for two reasons. There's the obvious—my back, and then there's who's in the doorway. He's wearing jeans, a plain T-shirt and a ridiculous blonde wig, but I know its him. I'm instantly annoyed, with him or myself I couldn't say.

He flusters me just standing there.

"Need help?"

I turn away from him and pull myself down over my other leg wincing. "Why are you here?" My tone is harsher then I intended but he sets me on edge, and I really have enough factors to ensure I lose this match.

Axel walks around and sits in front of me, reaching out. "I wanted to see you Struggle." He beacons me. "Give me your hands." I don't. So he reaches over and takes them, positioning himself as an anchor before me, and then pulls. Unrelenting to my tight muscles.

"Ah." I moan, but differently from what he's heard. My voice holds hurt, good hurt.

Axels face is awkwardly solemn. "Why didn't you say you had a match? I would have been less…rushed."

Images flash in my head. I shrug non-committedly refusing to meet his gaze. With my hands in his grasp, he moves, twisting me with him, getting me into a position I wouldn't have found alone. He releases one of my hands, kneeling at my side he takes that hand to my lower back and expertly works out the knots there.

"If you had stayed we could have done this from the comfort of a bed," he emphasizes bed heavily.

I don't react. He's accusing me, asking why I left. I push his hands away, unable to take it. "Quit." I demand, his touch driving me wild. Even such an innocent gesture, Cid has helped me stretch, but the way Axel does it. The way he touches me…I boil, spilling over my edges.

Axel sits back on his heels biting his top lip. His fingers reach and caress my cheek, barley touching me. I hold my breath; his sweetness breaks me with a weight, heavy and foreboding in my chest. I don't like it. It's to unfamiliar. I don't know how to deal with it, how I should act. So cold is the best I can do, my default personality.

I turn my head away, his fingers touching only air. My gaze flickers to Axel long enough to see him darken.

"What do you want?" I ask, annoyed. He is a fire, flickering with the promise of warmth, but I know if I get to close I'll get burned.

Axel smirks, not like usual. An annoyed quirk—to invested in what I say and why I say it. "I thought I said. I like you…" I'm shaking my head. "I want to know why, and that takes more then one night."

I say nothing, maybe if I don't move of breathe his words wont affect me, not in a way that he can see. After a long moment of silence, I find myself rolling my eyes. "We had sex." I say.

"I remember," he says almost cutting me off. "Did I do something wrong?" It's the way he says it that makes me falter.

"No," I admit. It was perfection; Axel had given me one of those sappy, romantic, dates. Something I never knew I wanted. He put a thought in my head I had never even toyed with—what if he could love you? What if you could love him? What if?

Foolish. How many people had had that exact thought about Axel?

"I would like to see you again." Axel reaches out to touch me, and I stand, my lower back seizing at the movement.

"I wouldn't." I lie. I'm caught in a cycle, a truth followed by a lie followed by a truth and so on and so forth.

Axel grits his teeth. _Just walk out._ I think. _Get fed up. Leave._ Why bother with me? I'm not worth all of this feeling, all of this trying to get me to go on another date. 'See me again.' I'm bad news, but those are shitty teen drama bad-boy words so I say nothing else. My gaze glosses, blurring Axel into nothing more then a general shape.

"You don't want to know why there's this…" He shakes his head, face scrunching in concentration. "Thing. There's this sameness. I feel drawn to you. I can't explain it." Axel rubs the back of his neck, in that unconscious gesture that I still find unbearably cute. "I would like to get to know you. Can't you feel it?"

I don't answer. Its time for a truth and I cant give him one. _Yes._ The thought that maybe he'd understand, but that's downright silly. Who could understand the things I've done? More importantly who would understand why I did them.

Axel sighs when it becomes apparent I won't answer, running his hands over his face. _Leave. Leave. Leave._ I mantra, my stance remaining outwardly passive. He'll break me with sweetness, I'm almost positive.

He stands and stupidly my heart sinks. Where are you going? Dumb. I'm dumb.

"Did I at least get an A plus?"

I smile despite myself, remembering talking and holding his hand.

"Yeah," I tell him, my truth past due.

Axel takes a step toward me, something changed about his stance. Cocky. The whole feel of the room has flipped, I take a step back. "Then I can have anything I want?"

I swallow harshly at the idea of another romp with Axel. "Yeah," I say, remembering the promise. "Just not right now, uhm, I have some time after we can do it at my apartment."

Axel breathes out unbelievingly. "I want a second date, and a third, and a forth, and a fifth. I want five dates."

I stiffen, glaring at him.

He barks a laugh. "You walked into that one." He's right; he's gotten his way, because I unknowingly agreed. I could get out of it. I could refuse, but it's too much effort.

"Fine." I spit, and he laughs. He does that, laughs, when I'm being serious. "But I have some rules."

"By all means, but I have every right to refuse them."

 _Asshole._ "No fancy restaurants. No more flashy dates. No expensive gifts. I don't want to be seen with you in public, or in any way that could mark me as someone you are fucking."

"Dating." He corrects,

"Dating." I say through my teeth.

"And here I thought you were a gold digger." Axel steps even closer to me. "Can I ask why you don't want to be seen with me?"

Incredulous. I snort. "If you took off that stupid wig and walked out is there any question there'd be camera crews before long?" Axel shakes his head no, no room in him for humility. "I don't need to be known as the Struggle player who fucks for favors."

Axels face loses its spark and goes dark. "That's all last night way to you? Payment?"

"That's what you offered. Sex for scouts."

"I didn't mean it like that. I would have sent them anyway."

I have nothing to say to that.

"I'll agree, but only with the addition of my own rule." I nod. "You can't leave. After we spend the night together, you have to wait until I wake up or wake me up."

"You're serious?"

Axel holds up his arms in a playful shrug. "Aren't I always?"

"Deal," I say finally. Wondering why he's even trying so hard. Anyone else would've just gone by now, especially those who think so highly of themselves.

"Deal," he repeats. Then he rushes me, sweeping me up in a frantic, desperate kiss, and I kiss him back. Easily, I'm back to being his plaything. Moldable to anything he wishes.

There's girlish laughter from the doorway. We both turn; I shove Axel away from me as a reflex. It's Tifa, his manager in large black sunglasses but otherwise the same get up as this morning. She's leaning against the far wall with her arms crossed, we must have put on quite a show. 

"I've never seen you beg for a date before." She says, addressing Axel.

I should have put it together that she was here with Axel, who else would have told him? Here to watch me play, and ultimately change my life if she likes what she sees. God damn it. It's the first time in a long time that I've felt like running, hiding, and then crying. A childish wish that they would all just leave me alone crushing paired with a childish fear of the future. Of going past what I know.

"I wouldn't really call it begging, more of a negotiation."

Tifa rolls her eyes.

Then a second person pops through the door. Sora? In his own gym outfit, a breathlessness about him that makes me think he's been running. "Rox." Sora says between gasps. "What the hell? Why didn't you tell me about your match?" Sora's gotten really good at mother henning me. Though he gets distracted by Axel, to him, a strange blonde man. "Who?" Then he looks back at Tifa with the same expression of bewilderment.

Cid appears not even a few moments later, not bothering to search for anyone but me. "There you are. You're up, kid."

~.~

^^ Let me know what you think please! I always love feedback. I'll probably see you all in the new year! 2016! That's fucking crazy.

I Want To Love You ~ Lenachka

Halo ~ Noose

Red Sparrow ~ Mree

Little Bird ~ Mree


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